Quixotic Coffee

I start with Quixotic Coffee for two reasons. Although the weather forecasts tell me we're finally headed into a period of sustained above-freezing temperatures, it's still too cold to contemplate sitting outside. The second reason is guilt & shame, pure and simple.

I've lived in Highland for 11 ½ years. It's my kaboo, my nabe, my varrio and yet-- have I ever been to Quix? Um... no. There's no excuse for crying out loud. Immediately across the street is the Highland Movie Theater and Vina and down a bit is Patina and over a bit is Half Price Books. Next-freakin'-door is the Highland Grill!! These are all well-visited by Your Reader. And I like coffee shops! I used to frequent them back in the nineties when, well, everyone did.

No legitimate excuse so I set out to undo my wrong.

As I said, in the early '90s TV's Friends weren't the only ones hanging at the coffee shop. Gourmet coffee was all the rage and when you weren't brewing (and practically growing) your own, you were at an urban beanery. Thus, I remember finding myself at a coffeehouse across from Loring Park sometime in 1990, a couple of doors down from the Amazon Bookstore. (Remember when the only Amazon bookseller was an independent, lesbian bookshop?) There I was, reading my biography of Greta Garbo, sipping my highbrow java and waiting to impress my date.

That coffee shop was definitely an attempt to try on an identity. It sort of stuck (in places) but basically, 30+ years later, coffee and reading might have changed as dramatically was the person writing this blog.

Quixotic is a place that does robust business even though it seems that nobody talks it up. This might be due to the fact that so many people haven't a clue how to pronounce the name.

My hopes for a chill, Sunday midmorning reading session were somewhat dashed upon arriving when I was greeted with a crowd the size of which we used to associate with people getting out of church. My neighborhood is pretty chummy, so maybe it's just become a habit to meet at Quix Sunday morning. Regardless of why they were there, they were there in droves.

Nevertheless, I was able to grab the table of my choice. If you're looking for atmospheric seating at Quixotic, I'd suggest the front of the shop. The back room as all the ambiance of a hastily erected and windowless afterthought. The front is charming, warm and surprisingly airy. The staff goes for Minnesota-friendly rather that barista-belligerent and the gluten-free, vanilla donut succeeded in lacking any taste, just as you'd expect from anything named "gluten-free, vanilla".

I was worried that piped-in music would compete with the playlist I brought with me. It turned out not to be the case. Music was playing but it was largely drowned out by crowd noise. THAT competed for my attention and so I was not nearly as relaxed and comfy as I'd hoped to be.

Finally, I was a bit sad to find myself the only patron reading. Unlike the days of old, when a good third of the clientele would be buried in books or at least laptops, everyone else was busily engaged in banter. Not a bad thing... unless you're a reader.

I'm giving Quixotic 3 Books out of 6 with the concession that a different day and time might have produced a different vibe. It truly is a quaint neighborhood place and I can see myself coming back with a friend... for a chat.

Wilde Roast Cafe (postmortem)

This is an homage and not a review because Wilde Roast-- in any iteration-- no longer exists. I guess I felt the need to include it because it is my favorite of all time and because there is very little that can be found about it online.

That's sad. We rainbow folk don't seem to be doing a very good job recording and displaying our history. Wilde Roast was far from the first LGBTQ establishment in the Twin Cities but it seemed to be the first gay-owned establishment that openly proclaimed gay pride as well as come-and-bring-your-grandmother-here-for-coffee. It was exquisite and thoroughly worthy of its namesake.

The fireplace and wingback chair in the original Hennepin Ave. location alone makes this my absolute favorite place in the Twin Cities to read. The only downside was that everyone else felt the same way and so nabbing the prime real estate in the cafe was frequently challenging.

But it made you feel proud and dignified to be gay/lesbian. That alone warrants giving its memory 6 out of 6 Books.

The St. James Hotel (Library)

This is an after-the-fact review-- about 20 years after-the-fact actually. Sometime around the turn of this century I got a wild hair to visit Red Wing, MN and stay the night in the St. James Hotel. I haven't a clue why; maybe I'd seen Somewhere in Time too often.

I don't treat myself to posh accommodations regularly but I love when I do. White linen tablecloth dinner, dark-wood-paneled room. It was lovely. And the piece de resistance was unquestionably the library.

There's no history of the room I can see online so I can't give you any backstory. What I can say is that I chose a weekend in early spring and consequently had much of the hotel and all of the library to myself. Yes, I sat in the leather, wingback chair and read, surrounded by that gloriousness.

Pity so many people waste the space on weddings. 6 out of 6 Books.

P.S. | The memories are tugging at me. I'm thinking I need to go back. The reading & music notations below are part of the planning.

Literary Characters

Union Depot, St. Paul (upstairs)

Yet another after-the-fact review and I'm not even sure if the location within the building even exists anymore.

In the early-to-mid '90s I worked in Lowertown and was forced to take a full hour for lunch. This was thirty years ago and so downtown St. Paul was actually interesting. But after a few weeks of checking out the commerce, (four bookstores!!!) I needed to vary my routine.

I discovered that the mezzanine of the mostly desolate St. Paul Union Depot was a perfect place for reading. There were several large, leather sofas and standing lamps lined up along the way. The lamps were very dim (hence the score of 4 Books) but I never saw a single person in the two years I frequented the place.

Now of course it's been renovated and revitalized by the return of train travel. I haven't been back and I'm guessing the upstairs has been turned into offices. Still, it was great while it lasted.

Home

This sort of runs counter to the idea of getting out and being active but the simple truth is that this chair is where most of my reading is done. It just doesn't seem right not to include it. I'm giving Home high marks for superior coffee, an exceptional music collection and all-around comfiness. Points deleted because it, (like its occupant) is a bit run-down. But it means well which is why it gets 4 Books.

Half Price Books (Highland Park)

When I got the idea to review reading-locations I jumped online to get a feel for what others recommended. I was surprised to see so many booksellers listed. I've always felt strange about reading spaces in retail locations. If you bring your own book, will someone nab you for theft when you start to leave? I mean-- is it done? Is it like bringing your own food to a restaurant? On the other hand, is it really alright to handle a book for a half an hour and then return it to the shelves? I worry.

The best this nervous nellie can come up with is to read a book from the shelves I have every intention of buying. And the best occasion for this is selling old media at Half Price Books.

The pandemic / the looming possibility of recession / spring cleaning / something... has inspired everyone and their literary aunt to sell their old books. I had to stop by twice to exploit a window of time for the transaction which, to be fair, was handled efficiently and jovially. And generously, I'll add! The key is to obsessively update your media so that what you sell is really not that old. (Insert eyeroll here.)

Half Price has done an about-turn regarding where you can go while they examine your wares. They used to cast the hairy eyeball at anyone suspected of leaving the store and nipping over to Patina during the wait. The psychology was to keep you roaming around the aisles, impulse-buying to the point where you were left with 38 cents after the visit. All very fine if you're not on a teacher's salary.

Sheer volume now dictates a more liberal approach. Now you can leave your bags and have them call you when they are through. That situation is similar to visiting places like Chipotle or LeeAnn Chin in-person. You can't always be certain that the folks who are physically there will be given preference to the remote customer.

So, it was time to check out the reading accommodations. It was a short process. There are only two on the main floor. There is a bizarre little cupboard on the lower level which appears to be a partially enclosed corner with a bench stuck in it. The bench is hard; the corner is dark-- I can't see the use of it beyond stopping there to adjust your shoes. The only decent chair available had been commandeered by a woman who ignored the book on her lap and stared at her cell phone the entire 40 minutes I was there. Holy Irony, Batman!

The only other chair was a hard, wooden straight-back... right next to the bathroom. Oh, that says "settle in and enjoy"! I actually tried it for a few minutes until I realized I wasn't focusing on reading about depraved madmen so much as I was preoccupied by the notion that I was going to hear what was happening a few feet and one thin door away from me.

I gave up and took my things back. The following day I returned to find a slightly shorter line and the comfy chair unoccupied! Hurray! The rest of the visit was a success.

I'm giving Highland Half Price 2 Books as a reading location but fully recommend this as a great place to stock up on your reading addiction.

Bryant Lake Bowl

A friend invited me to a dress rehearsal at the Jungle Theater and suggested we meet a little early for a drink at BLB. Now I'll start this entry by saying that I am heavily prejudiced towards the Bowl because I have a long, happy history with it and I think it's one of the most charmingly quirky places in the Metro. Who can't love a bowling alley/pub/theater combo where Hamlet's soliloquy can possibly be interrupted by an explosion of cheers when someone throws a strike next door? Where else can you swing by and see Jon Hamm hanging out near the lanes?

Since I was going to be available before my friend was, I decided to head down early, dine, read and see how my hangout-of-old rated as far as a reading location goes. (Almost all of my time at BLB previously was spent in the theater; I think I only ate in the pub space once.)

For a reader, choice-of-day-and-time is always important. In this case, I arrived around 6 on a Wednesday night. Genuinely good move. The place was empty enough for prompt service and reasonable noise level and yet was populated by what seemed to be some regulars who lent an air of where-everybody-knows-your-name.

My last visit was well before the pandemic so I was in the mood for nostalgia. Many nights spent in the theater sipping Pinot Noir, so I ordered a glass and settled in with my book. I couldn't help but think of the ubiquitous surveys the Guthrie Theater keeps sending me after every. show. I. see, asking me if I feel welcome in their space. Welcome/not welcome doesn't really apply to the Guthrie in my opinion. But yes-- I felt a distinct sensation of welcome sitting in BLB. It had been years and I had been part of a different theater generation when last I came but I felt like I belonged there still.

Minor nit-pick to shave off one book: the table was uneven and kept tipping from side-to-side (bigger deal for a reader) and they were clearly trying to use every square inch of commodifiable dining space they could. The tables and chairs were packed together like sardines, but hey-- I got there early so no one glared at my Rubenesque form and resented me for pushing the neighboring chair over a bit.

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